


Second Chances

by nyxxstay



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: 1k celebration, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Angels, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Author Is Sleep Deprived, But also, Destiny, First Kiss, Guardian Angels, Happy Ending, Human Jisung, I REGRET NOTHING, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, M/M, Mentioned Bang Chan, Mentioned Seo Changbin, Non-Graphic Violence, One Shot, Reincarnation, Screw Destiny, Self-Sacrifice, Temporary Character Death, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, angel minho, minsung owns my soul at this point, queen of angst at your service, thank you ser for this amazing prompt, this is entirely self-indulgent, why do I always hurt them like this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24372964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyxxstay/pseuds/nyxxstay
Summary: Minho was a guardian angel, assigned to watch over the humans until their destined days arrived.He never planned to fall in love with Han Jisung, the brown haired and chaotic boy he was assigned to protect.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 37
Kudos: 183





	Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by a prompt by my dear friend @Binstarot on twitter! Please go show her some love, and enjoy the story!

Minho had lived for a very long time. When you had a job like his, that just kind of came with the territory; hundreds and hundreds of years, perhaps even thousands -- Minho had lost count some centuries ago. He watched countless lives, raging like fire, born of sparks and embers, morph into bright flames of life, and then die out just as fast, over and over again.

Thus was the life of a guardian angel.

Minho liked his job. No, Minho loved his job. He loved watching his precious humans, guarding and protecting each one he had been assigned to, offering little signs of guidance throughout their lives, and then watching their souls pass into their next life, being reborn as a new person with a new guardian, family, and life. Their lives were fleeting, but he enjoyed each one. There was something uniquely intimate about knowing the deepest secrets about a person, the ones they dare not tell even their significant others, and even though these secrets were often dark, it gave Minho and even deeper appreciation of the human he was safeguarding, because he knew what truly scared them, and what made them happiest.

But when Minho got assigned to a human by the name of Han Jisung, things began to feel different.

Jisung was 17 when Minho came to watch over him, his previous guardian having requested a new assignment on the stakes of being bored, which wasn’t uncommon for many. Some angels just liked to switch things up periodically, trying to find ways to make their immortal lives more interesting, though Minho had never really understood the sentiment.

And Minho could never understand how anyone could possibly get bored of Han Jisung. At 17, Jisung was one spitfire of a human, full of life, energy, and ambitions. The brunette was a little cocky at times, and clumsy as all hell, but had a humor to rival even the best comedians, and a talent for making everyone around him smile.

Of the many fiery lives that Minho had watched over, Jisung burned the brightest of them all.

The first time he laid eyes on the human was mere hours after he’d been assigned to guard him. Minho had to travel a little ways across Korea to get to Seoul, soaring over city skylines in the brisk. Autumn morning as the wind tousled his silvery purple hair, the angel’s pristine white, feathered wings expertly gliding through the air. He touched down on a sidewalk in the middle of the city, landing gracefully as though it took less effort than standing, and made his way through the morning traffic crowd towards the entrance of a little coffee shop. No one could see him unless he wanted them to, or even feel his presence without his express decision, but he was still always careful about where he walked, making sure to not bump into any humans who rushed by him purely out of courtesy.

As the angel walked through the front door, adjusting the black ribbon choker around his neck and the cuffs of his blue silky shirt, he was greeted by warm lighting and the calming smell of coffee and caramel. The atmosphere was comforting, soft hues of the season decorating the small place as music played lightly over the murmur of the customers. Minho took a moment to stop, smiling at the small little world that so many humans got to live in. It may have seemed like such a little thing, to get coffee from a tiny cafe and go about your day, but if there was one thing that Minho had learned from watching over humans in his lifetime, it was that the small things were often the most important.

And then Minho spotted him, Han Jisung, the mousy brown haired 17-year-old, sitting comfortably at a table beside the window, the morning sunlight filtering through and casting the human in a golden glow not unlike Minho’s angelic halo. Jisung was dressed comfortably, a black hoodie and black jeans covering most of his body, round glasses sliding down his nose as he hunched over a notebook, scribbling away at whatever he was working on. The human’s brown eyes flickered over his little project, warm and kind, despite the focus portrayed in them, and though the teenager’s face was still round, fluff puffing his cheeks like that of squirrel, Minho could tell that he’d grow into it well, grow to become quite a handsome young man.

Minho walked closer, peering casually over the boy’s shoulder at his writing, noticing that he seemed to be working on lyrics. Minho smiled to himself and decided to sit down in the seat across from his assignment, watching him in fascination as ever so often he would take a sip of his coffee, frowning at his work and scribbling something out before writing something new. Whatever song he was trying to write, it seemed to be very important to him.

Minho came to learn that morning trips to the coffee shop were a daily routine, Jisung always rising early with the sun and making his way down the street to the homey little cafe. He would order a new drink every day, and buy a pastry as breakfast, before sitting at the same table by the window, whipping out his notebook and scribbling lyrics into it like his life depended on it. Minho liked watching how passionate his human was about his hobby, and every now and then, Minho would allow himself to be seen - his human features, that is - and sit in a booth a little ways from Jisung, enjoying whatever drink he had overheard the boy order for the day as he casually marvelled in the atmosphere and watched Jisung work. Most angels preferred to keep their distance, but Minho liked mingling with the humans, enjoying their oh so human pleasures like caramel mochas and raspberry danishes. Jisung never noticed the purple haired boy watching him, but Minho didn’t mind. He just liked to be there.

Some might find it odd that that someone as hyperactive and slightly chaotic as Han Jisung liked to get up early every morning to write lyrics in the comfort of his favorite cafe, but as Minho grew to know the human boy, he learned that it was because Jisung liked having a constant in his life. The boy’s life was constantly changing, after moving away from his homophobic parents as soon as he was old enough to venture on his own, struggling to hold down a job while he put himself through school, and trying to chase his dream of being a rapper and performer, and he needed something to keep himself stable, something he could rely on that was as tangible as a coffee cup in his hand and warm sunlight kissing his golden honey skin.

Minho remembered the day the human left his childhood home, not even saying goodbye to his parents as he lugged his singular suitcase out the front door, and boarded the next bus across town to go live with his friend Chan until he could stand on his own feet. The human cried silently in the back seat of the musty smelling vehicle the entire ride, and Minho sat beside him the whole way, heart breaking for the teenager as he wished he could do something more to help him. He always hated being forced to watch the unfairness that life threw at his beloved guarded humans, but Minho knew Jisung would be okay. His human was strong and would get through it.

And Minho remembered Jisung’s first real heartbreak, when the boy he’d fallen in love with broke up with him for another over a phone call. That was the only time Minho had seen Jisung break his routine of visiting the coffee shop every morning, and Minho wanted to do nothing more than fly to that asshole’s apartment and kick his ass for hurting his human, but he couldn’t. Instead, he sat by the 18-year-old’s bedside for the three days that he stayed holed up in there, the angel’s hand gently rubbing over the human’s in an attempt to comfort the sniffling boy, despite knowing that Jisung couldn’t feel it. All he could do was hope that Jisung knew that he wasn’t alone, that someone was there with him and loved him, even if that asshole of an ex never did.

Minho had seen Jisung go through a lot, but every time the human was faced with a trial, Minho marveled at how strong the boy bounced back, stronger than ever, and with a new found kick in his step as he set out to prove everyone who doubted him wrong. As the boy grew older, the angel watched him gain friends in those around him, boys who loved him for the kind hearted and bright soul he was, who supported him at his worst, and raised him up at his highest. Minho couldn’t help but smile and shake his head when Jisung and two of his friends decided to make a rap group called 3racha, and though some of their songs were definitely a bit cringey, he knew they were all excited and passionate about it, and had the potential to go far.

Nothing made Minho happier than seeing Jisung’s face contort with emotion as he spit bars into the mic, whether they were recording or performing in a tiny club somewhere in the city. Jisung loved the stage, and was incredibly charismatic as a performer, and it captivated the angel every time he got to watch him. Seeing the way his precious human roamed the stage, hyping his friends, smiling and jumping around with the music, you could tell that this was where Jisung felt most at home.

His human was sometimes a bit forgetful, and often misplaced simple items like his keys or the stamp card for the coffee shop, and Jisung would run around his apartment, cussing to himself as he tore through his belongings in search for his missing item. Jisung would later cuss himself out even further when he’d come to find the item placed on his kitchen table, thinking he had simply overlooked it, not knowing that Minho secretly placed it there for him. No, Jisung never noticed little things like that, the way his items would reappear after going missing, the way his jacket would be mysteriously hung by his door to remind him to wear it on a day that would rain, or even the way he one time somehow managed to drop his notebook and had to stop to pick it up, which kept him from getting ran into by a bicyclist that wasn’t watching where they were going. Jisung just thought he was forgetful and a bit of a clutz, which was true, but he never would’ve believed that these things happened because a certain angel was looking out for him.

Jisung always carried a warmth with him, his bright personality able to brighten even the rainiest of days, and smile rivaling that of literal sunshine. Minho never seemed to be able to fully wrap his head around how wonderfully hopeful the human was, and it only made him adore the boy more. It didn’t matter what was happening, Jisung always found a way to make those around him cheer up, and before the day was done, everyone would’ve burst their sides in laughter at least once. It seemed to be a special gift of his to notice when others were feeling down and always being able to switch their moods.

But the thing that Minho was most shocked by and simultaneously admired all the more was how honest Jisung was. Most humans had different sides to them, different aspects of their personality that they showcased for certain people and hid from others. Everyone had secrets, skeletons hidden in their closet that haunted them when they were at their most alone. Who are you when no one’s looking? That’s a question most would be afraid to answer honestly, but as a guardian angel, Minho always knew the answer, always knew what went on behind closed doors, what secrets haunted his precious guarded humans.

But Jisung didn’t have any. Jisung was honest about everything and didn’t try to be someone he wasn’t. Whether it was about his passions, his sexuality, or just his personality, Jisung never tried to hide anything. Jisung was the same person in front of his friends as he was in front of strangers and in the solitary safety of his home, and it amazed the angel to no end.

Jisung was special. Perhaps to most angels, he would’ve just been another ordinary human with a fleeting life and compassionate personality, but to Minho, he was so much more. Jisung was so beautifully human, so loving and full of life, so willing to help people, so passionate about what he enjoyed. He liked to drink coffee in the morning as the sun rose, liked to surprise his friends by bringing them food, and liked to write sentimental and romantic songs. He had a voice that Minho knew rivaled the singing of angels, and a smile that made the world just seem all the more bright. He was beautiful, and had Minho not already known he was merely human, he could’ve kid himself into believing that the boy really was an angel, because he seemed to glow no matter where he was.

And as the years raced by, Minho fell in love with the beautiful human that he got to protect, learning to love humanity just a little bit more everyday he spent by Jisung’s side.

And that made things all the harder as Minho stood, in the dead of night, watching Jisung make his way home down the deserted street.

When a guardian angel is assigned a human, their job is to guide them and keep them safe until their destined day. Every guardian angel knows their human’s destined day, the day where their life will end and their soul will pass on to their next life. It was always a sad day for Minho, no matter who he was safeguarding, but death is a part of life, Minho knew better than any human, and even though the angel was always saddened to see the life leave his precious humans, he knew that they would move on to happy lives, that they would be safe in their next reincarnation, guarded by another angel, that even though they were dying, it wasn’t the end for them. Life and death was an endless cycle, an unstoppable force of nature that the angels were forbidden from interfering with. Minho’s job was to protect his humans, not alter their fates.

And though Minho knew all of this, it didn’t erase the bitterness from his tongue as the years continued, as he watched Jisung get older and his destined day inch closer.

Jisung was 20 now, three years having passed since Minho was assigned to protect the human, and it had been a brisk autumn day much like the one Minho had first seen Jisung during, and normally, that would’ve made Minho all the happier, but not today. Today, Minho couldn’t bring himself to sit in his usual seat across the cafe, watching the human from afar as he worked on his lyrics and ate his scone. No, today Minho kept himself completely hidden, choosing to sit in the seat across from the boy in an attempt to spend as much time close to him as possible, doing so for the first time since the day he’d been assigned to watch over Jisung. Today, Jisung drank a lavender green tea with a light amount of milk, and though it smelled heavenly, it only served to sadden the angel more, knowing that this would be his last morning spent in the little shop. Minho took as much time as he could to admire the way the sunlight lit up his human’s face, glinting off his silver earrings, illuminating his soft brown hair, his warm brown eyes seeming to glow in the sun’s rays. The human tapped his fingers against the table in thought, periodically licking his lips as he focused on whatever piece he and 3racha had been working on. Jisung had finally started to grow into his baby face, his cheeks still holding their signature puff, but his jawline becoming more defined and sharp, features complemented by his bright eyes and mischievous smile. Minho thought he had never looked more beautiful.

Today, Jisung spent his day at his friend Chan’s, working with him and their other friend, Changbin, on new tracks for their next soundcloud mixtape. It was coming along well, and Minho marveled at the ease in which Jisung recorded his solo song, hitting stunning high nights and rapping smoothly and melodically. Jisung was so excited to work on mixing the rest of the song, and it broke Minho’s heart knowing that it would never be finished.

Today was like any other day for Jisung, and he carried on with a bright smile and not a care in the world, laughing with his friends over ramen and discussions of future songs. Today was just another day spent doing what he loved. But Minho knew the dark truth.

Today was Jisung’s destined day. Today would be the day Jisung died.

And now Minho stood at the edge of the deserted street, knowing well enough to keep his distance, his silky soft pink shirt ruffling in the night air. His pristine wings hugged close to his body, as though he were trying to comfort himself about knowing what tragedy was to occur. Things like this were never easy, but tonight was so, so much harder. 

It was 3AM, too late for anyone to still be out after a late night of saturday partying, but too early for morning commuters to be hitting the road. It was quiet, the stars drowned out by the streetlights, air falling still as the human walked through the night. Jisung hummed to himself, hands buried in his hoodie front pocket, making his way down the sidewalk with a small smile, proud of the work he’d done today. He looked forward to getting home, curling up in bed so he could rise bright and early again the next morning, enjoying another coffee at his favorite cafe.

Jisung was lost in thought, too busy thinking about all he would accomplish the next day. The light for pedestrians to walk was lit, and the human took that as the clear to go ahead and cross the street. 

Minho watched as a car rounded the corner, speeding and swerving towards the intersection Jisung was walking through, not slowing for the red light. It was a drunk driver, Minho knew, someone who made a poor decision, unthinking about the pain they could cause others with it. Jisung saw the car, but it was too late.

Minho saw the vehicle collide with his fragile human, his body crashing into the windshield and tumbling over the car. He watched Jisung fall to the ground with a sickening thump in the wake of the drunk driver, the driver who decided not to stop, and sped off into the night, leaving Jisung alone, sprawled on his back, body broken, gasping for air as pain overwhelmed him. Nobody would know what had happened until the sun rose and an early morning commuter came across Jisung’s body in the street, nobody would come to save him, nobody would comfort him as the life left his eyes. His friends would cry and scream when they found out the news, cursing themselves for not asking Jisung to stay the night because of the late hour, wishing one of them had offered to walk their youngest friend home in the dead of night. They’d sob, knowing that their best friend died scared and alone on the cold street.

A moment of chaos and bad luck, taking a precious life from the world. It didn’t seem fair, but these things never did.

Minho’s hands tightened into fists at his side, wings twitching in agitation as he felt his heart shatter. From his position on the other side of the street, he could see tears streaking down Jisung’s face, reflecting in the yellow light of the streetlights as the human sobbed in pain and terror. His body was too broken to move, he couldn’t even reach his phone to call for help, all he could do was lie there, crying as he hoped and prayed for anyone to save him. He couldn’t die like this, not in a lonely street, not when he still had so much he still wanted to do in his life.

This was cruel. This was unfair, and Minho felt like he was at war with himself, knowing his job was to stand silently by as Jisung passed, but he knew his human better than anyone, and he knew this was what Jisung feared most.

Jisung may have been unlike most humans in that he had no secrets, but, like everyone, Jisung had fears, deep rooted terrors that haunted his mind in his worst moments. Jisung feared being alone, which was perhaps why he was so attuned to others and their needs, because at his lowest for many years, he’d been left to suffer on his own, and he never wanted to do it again. He wanted to spend his life with his friends, and perhaps some day, a boyfriend, surrounded by and supported by the people he loved. And when it should come his day to die, he imagined it’d always be blissful and calm, perhaps in his old age, hands joined with the people he cared about. Not like this, not so young and so soon, not alone in the middle of a deafeningly silent night.

His human was terrified, and Minho couldn’t bear it. As his guardian angel, the least he could do was be there for him in his final moments, just so he wasn’t alone. Jisung deserved at least that much.

Minho took a deep breath, making his decision and stepping off the sidewalk, allowing his presence to be revealed as he did so. He didn’t bother to hide his wings or angelic halo, knowing that Jisung would never remember having met an angel once he passed. If anything, he hoped it would put Jisung more at ease, knowing that an angel was with him in the end.

The boy managed to turn his head slowly at the sound of soft footsteps approaching him, and despite how hard it already was for him to breathe, he couldn’t help the way his breath caught in his throat, eyes resting on the figure that approached him. It appeared as though the boy had been hand sculpted by gods, his features soft and delicate, pouty lips and big, dark eyes; a silken shirt hung loosely from his frame, dark pants hugging his hips and legs, and a thick black choker wound its way around his neck. The silvery purple locks of hair bounced elegantly as he walked toward him, the length covering his forehead, but no matter how beautiful the boy was, nothing could distract from the stunning white wings that appeared to grow from the stranger’s back, their length tucked delicately behind him, trailing nearly down to the street. He seemed to glow with a golden light, brightening his features in the dark shadows of the night, and Jisung was certain he had to be hallucinating in his pained and near delirious state, because he couldn’t possibly be seeing what he thought he was.

The stranger seemed hesitant, but approached Jisung slowly, lowering himself beside Jisung’s mangled body.

Up close, Minho could see just how truly injured Jisung was, how one of his arms was bent at an unusual angle, how through the tears in his shirt and hoodie you could see a variety of cuts and lacerations from the glass he had collided with, and how a dribble of blood trailed down the side of his head from a gash in his hairline and scrapes decorated his cheekbone. The human’s chest rose and fell at a haphazard pace, speeding up and slowing down randomly as he struggled to breathe, likely from broken ribs or a collapsed lung. Minho knew there was likely a variety of other internal injuries adding to Jisung’s pain, ones that would have doctors in the emergency room scrambling to stabilize him, to do anything to keep him alive, but that wouldn’t happen, not for Jisung, not tonight.

Jisung stared at the stranger, eyes wide as tears continued to fall, and a whimper escaped his lips. The sound clenched a fist around Minho’s heart.

“Shhh,” Minho reached out with a gentle hand, brushing tears from Jisung’s cheeks with his fingertips. “Don’t cry, sunshine. It’s okay, it’ll all be okay.”

Jisung didn’t know why, but the angelic figure’s touch felt uniquely calming, as though his body were reacting and knowing it was safe with him. Even still, he couldn't stop the convulsions of pain, and he let slip another whimper. “I-it hurt-ts.”

Minho frowned deeply, eyes saddened as he gazed at the boy in front of him. “I know, sunshine, I know. It will all be over soon.” He brushed another tear away with his thumb.

Jisung’s crying finally started to slow, the boy’s touch soothing him as he gazed up at the beautiful stranger that somehow struck him as familiar. He was so afraid, but he got the feeling that this person wasn’t here to call help, and though he wanted to beg for them to do so, he was just thankful that he wasn’t alone. Still, he wanted to know more about the angelic figure that was caressing his face with such gentleness, as though they knew him and wanted him to feel okay.

“Wh-who are you?”

Minho looked into Jisung’s eyes, a soft but sad smile gracing his lips. “My name is Minho.”

“M-minho.” Jisung tested the name, still unable to keep the stutter from his voice, but he liked the way it sounded. The name seemed oddly fitting for the young man hovering over him.

Minho sucked in a breath, unable to resist how hearing his name fall from the human’s lips made his heart skip a beat. No angel ever got to hear their name spoken by the human they guarded, for obvious reasons, but Jisung whispering it so softly, the sound carried into the starless night, made Minho long to hear it more. Oh, how he wished things could be different.

“What a-are you?”

Minho smiled at the question, finding it funny that Jisung felt the need to ask when the answer was plainly obvious. Still, he answered anyway. “I’m an angel, sunshine. I’m your guardian angel.”

“You’re beautiful.” The words escaped without Jisung’s permission, and he knew that this was no time to be flirting, but he couldn’t help it, especially not when he was delirious from pain. The angel, Minho, was breathtaking, so beautiful that Jisung believed photos of him could belong in a museum of art. Minho grinned at the compliment, a smile that Jisung wanted to engrain in his memory forever.

Minho gently brushed his fingers through Jisung’s hair. “Not as beautiful as you.”

Jisung’s eyes fluttered shut at the touch, trying to hold onto the feeling for as long as he could, anything to distract from the debilitating agony his body was in. His mouth was horribly dry, but he managed to force his next words out, voice choppy and stuttered. “If-f I’m able t-t-to see you, th-then I’m gonna d-die, aren’t I?”

Minho didn’t know how to answer, afraid of making Jisung even more afraid of the situation he’d been placed in, but his silence only proved to do just that. Jisung began to cry again, screwing his eyes shut as sobs choked out of his throat, only putting him in more pain and making it harder to breathe. “‘m s-scared,” he sobbed. “I don’t want t-to die.”

Minho had to force himself to take a deep breath, because seeing his beloved human in so much pain, so afraid of what was about to happen to him, it made tears begin to sting his own eyes. “It’s okay,” he whispered, doing his best to reassure Jisung as he began to brush away the brunette’s tears once again. “It’s okay to be scared, but death is just a part of life. You’re going to be okay; you’ll move on to your next life and live a happy life full of smiles and laughter. You’ll have a new guardian to watch over you, a new family, new friends, new memories to make. Everything will be okay.”

And Jisung gazed up at the angel, teary eyes filled with so much innocence and trust, letting the comfort of Minho’s gentle touch envelop him in warmth, as though the golden glow that surrounded the angel could erase all of Jisung’s fears and agony. He didn’t want to die, he didn’t want to leave behind the life he had built, he didn’t want to say goodbye to Chan or Changbin, or any of his other friends. He still had so many things he wanted to do, things to share with the world and attempt to make it a happier place. He just wanted to be happy; it wasn’t fair, and he didn’t understand why it had to be him, why he had to be the one to die like this, so young, before he’d ever really even got the chance to live, but he supposed it was far too late to change anything now, that his fate was sealed. 

It was a tragic scene, the human boy dying under the flickering yellow of the streetlights on a starless and quiet night, sprawled on the street, with a beautiful, white-winged angel seated beside him, caressing the boy’s face as his life slipped away. A bright and fiery life cut so short by a tragic accident, and all his guardian could do was watch and hope that the human lived a better life in his next incarnation, even though he wouldn’t be there to protect him anymore. Minho had always believed that his humans would be better off in their next life, and although letting them go always stung, never had it hurt like this. Never before had it felt like someone was ripping his heart from his ribcage, and watching Jisung’s breathing begin to slow, knowing he had mere minutes left, for the first time in Minho’s long life, he wanted to be selfish, he wanted to keep Jisung with him, where he’d always know the human was safe and protected. He didn’t want to say goodbye to the boy that had captured his heart so effortlessly, just by being himself.

“Wh-why are you c-crying?”

Minho was pulled from his thoughts by the words, so quiet they were nearly inaudible, and he realized he had zoned out, tears slipping from his eyes and cascading down his cheeks. Jisung looked up at him, concern swirling in his eyes, and it made Minho’s heart ache even more, realizing that despite literally being the one dying, he was concerned about the angel crying. Minho hastily wiped the salty water away, laughing lightly to himself.

“I’m just going to miss you.” Minho’s voice was sad, pain underlying the words, though he did his best to hide it. 

It just wasn’t fair. Why did such a wonderfully bright and happy life’s destiny have to be to die like this? Jisung deserved so much more; he deserved all the happiness in the world, to find love and chase his dreams, to laugh with his friends and fight for what he believes in. He deserved to be able to walk down the street every morning to enjoy his coffee while he wrote his lyrics, and to always be surrounded by warmth and light. It felt like everything Minho knew and believed was being torn away before his eyes, because nothing had ever felt so unjust. He knew the world wasn’t always fair, but Jisung was different, and Minho wished things could have been different for him. He didn’t want this for his precious human.

Minho wondered what things would have been like if he had been born human, if perhaps he could’ve found Jisung and fallen in love with him all the same, and if Jisung would’ve loved him back. Perhaps they would’ve met at that little coffee shop like the couples in those cheesy romance novels, and they could’ve spent their lives together, making each other happy, protecting and loving each other, until one day they would both slip away as their lives faded. Minho wished he could’ve had the chance to love Jisung and be loved by him, because Minho had seen Jisung’s love, and it was like flowers blooming in the warm spring sunlight, like a blanket of everything sweet and good in the world. But most of all, he just wished that fate wasn’t so cruel, that Jisung could have more, because Minho knew better than anyone that Jisung deserved so much better than what this life had given him.

Jisung felt himself beginning to fade, the pain in his limbs turning numb and cold. His breathing was still painful, but so incredibly slow that he might’ve been able to convince himself that he wasn’t breathing at all. His mind had fogged over, watching the tears slip down the beautiful angel’s face like a tragic work of art, and as his eyelids grew heavy, a calmness eased over him. Perhaps it had been Minho’s reassurances, or maybe he was just too weak to fight it anymore, but he knew he was going to die, and there wasn’t anything he could do to change it. At least, in the end, he wasn’t alone; he was graced with the presence of his very own guardian angel, and his only wish was that he’d gotten to actually know the boy under better circumstances.

“Thank you.” Jisung’s eyes finally closed, content with letting himself fade away with Minho by his side, the smallest smile gracing his lips.

The words made Minho’s stomach twist harshly, their finality settling deep within the angel’s soul and igniting a brand new form of terror, realizing that Jisung really was dying, that his life was dangerously close to running out. Suddenly, all rationality went out the window, and Minho was gripped by an overwhelming desire to do something,  _ anything  _ to save his precious human from this tragic fate. He didn’t care what the consequences were for him, he just wanted Jisung to live, to be happy, to have a second chance at life. Minho couldn’t live with himself if he let Jisung die, and it was that moment that he made the decision to go against every rule he’d sworn to follow, to fight fate and destiny and anything else that dared try to keep his human from living his life and bringing light to the rest of the world. He loved Jisung too much to let him go.

Minho leaned over the human, shaking hands gently holding Jisung’s face as he prayed that the brunette was still conscious. He brought his face close to the human’s, as though to tell a secret only the two could know, and whispered a desperate plea. 

_ “Ask me to save you.” _

Jisung was only barely conscious, his mind unbearably slow as he heard Minho’s words, trying to understand their meaning. 

_ “Please, please ask me to save you.” _

The hands on his face felt like fire to the touch, burning him in the best way possible as the angel’s breath fanned his face. Jisung wasn’t sure what was happening, or why Minho was suddenly pleading for Jisung to asked to be saved with such a heartbroken voice, but the request filled him with the smallest amount of hope that maybe, just maybe, his story wouldn’t end here. What Minho could do to help him, he had no idea, but the boy was an angel for god's sake, so he wouldn’t be requesting this if it didn’t mean something.

With the last pieces of strength the human could muster, he managed to speak, the words barely a breath, loud enough only for the angel hovering above him to hear.

“Please… save… me…”

Jisung was shocked to suddenly feel warm lips pressed to his, kissing him with a sense of desperation and pain, as though the angel had truly feared losing him, and Jisung couldn’t understand why Minho was suddenly kissing him, but he wouldn’t possibly complain that someone as ethereal as the angel boy was pressing their lips together. Jisung gasped into the kiss as he felt a gentle heat trail through his body, beginning where his lips joined with Minho’s and coursing down into each of his limbs. It was comfortable like a warm embrace, all traces of the pain he’d been in being chased away by the feeling that seemed to be seeping into his very soul, igniting him with a newfound energy and life. The fog that had hindered Jisung’s mind was now gone, but it was replaced by a new feeling, a desire, as only one word echoed in the human’s thoughts.

_ Minho _ .

Jisung felt the angel begin to pull away, but he wasn’t ready to let him go, too addicted to the soft lips that tasted so beautifully sweet. He reached out, grabbing a fistful of Minho’s silken shirt, and pulled the boy back down, chasing his lips with a strength he knew he hadn’t had a mere minute ago. Jisung wasn’t sure if he was just being needy, but judging by the way he felt Minho smile against his mouth, he guessed the angel wanted to continue just as badly.

At some point, Jisung managed to get himself into a sitting position, hands roaming the angel’s body as he tried to bring him closer, and Minho’s hands tangled into the human’s hair, tugging gently as the kiss deepened. Minho’s wings unconsciously wrapped around the two, as though to hide them from the prying eyes of the world or to hold Jisung closer in any way he could. He had always wondered what it’d be like to kiss Jisung, to taste his lips and run his fingers through the human’s hair, and he’d never imagined he’d get to do it, but it was everything he could’ve wanted and more. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach and his heart raced in his chest, pounding so hard that he thought Jisung had to have been able to hear it. It was so perfect, and Minho was thankful that he got to experience it at least once in his life, what it felt like to kiss the person you love more than anything in the world.

When the two finally separated, hands still gripping the other, their faces still hovered close to one another as they fought to catch their breath. Jisung’s gaze met Minho’s and nothing had to be said for the human to understand what the angel had done for him, that Minho had healed him, saving his life and giving him a second chance.

He was yet to, however, understand the gravity of Minho’s choice.

Jisung’s eyes widened in panic as Minho began to fall forward, seemingly losing the strength to sit up as the brunette caught him in his arms, shouting in surprise.

“Minho?!” Jisung lowered Minho’s weak form to his lap, being careful of the angel’s wings and eyes frantically searching for a sign to clue him in to why he had suddenly lost his strength. “Minho, what’s happening? Are you okay?” His words were rushed, and Minho smiled tiredly, shushing the panicked human.

“It’s okay, sunshine. Don’t panic, I’m okay.”

“But what’s happening? Why can’t you hold yourself up?”

“Would you believe me if I said that kiss took it out of me?”

Jisung glared down at the angel in his lap, not appreciating the humor when he could tell that something was seriously wrong. Suddenly, the truth slapped Jisung in the face.

“Are you… are you dying?”

Minho hummed in confirmation. “Yeah, it would certainly seem that way.”

“But why…?” A thought flashed through Jisung’s mind, and he felt like throwing up at the idea, fear gripping his heart like a vice. “Is this… is this because you saved me?”

Minho smiled sadly up at his human, and watched as more tears began to trail down his cheeks.

“ _ Why?!” _ Jisung all but shrieked, a stone’s throw from breaking down into complete hysteria as he began to shake with broken sobs. “You’re an angel, you can’t die! I-I need you. You’re my guardian angel, aren’t you? You can’t leave me, not after all this!”

“Shh, shh, sunshine, calm down,” Minho reached up weakly, holding Jisung’s face with a gentle hand.

Jisung pressed his hand to Minho’s, holding the angel’s touch to his face as tears continued to cascade down his cheeks, sad eyes watching the dying boy in his lap. “How? Aren’t angels supposed to be immortal or something?”

“To fight the destiny that was trying to claim your life, I sacrificed my immortality. My life is the price to save yours; essentially, we’re trading places.” Minho’s voice was gentle and calming, as though he were completely at ease with the cost of his decision, willing to die if it meant saving the human’s life.

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I love you.” Minho said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, but to Jisung it was practically life altering. Seeing the way the angel -  _ his  _ angel - gazed up at him with shining eyes filled with care and love, it took Jisung’s breath away, because somehow, someone as perfect as Minho had fallen for him, and it broke his heart that he wouldn’t have the chance to fall for Minho the same way. “You’re so, so special to me, Jisungie. You are like literal sunshine, like pure laughter and happiness. I’ve guarded so many humans over the years, but never have I loved a human like I love you. I couldn’t let this be your end, not when you have the ability to make so many people’s lives happier just by you existing, and not when I knew I’d always regret letting you go.”

Jisung bit his lip, trying to keep himself from sobbing even harder. “I don’t want to be alone.  _ Please _ , don’t leave me.”

“You won’t be,” Minho assured, pulling his hand from Jisung’s grasp against his face before lacing their fingers together. “A new guardian will come protect you, taking my place. You’ve had other angels protect you before, and you ended up just fine, so don’t you worry, okay?” His voice was becoming softer, and his strength slowly continued to leave him. “You’ve never been alone, not really, and it has been my privilege to be by your side in these past few years, watching you grow into the beautiful person you are now.”

At Minho’s words, a memory surfaced in the human’s mind, one of a beautiful, purple haired stranger sitting in a booth at his favorite coffee shop. He remembered noticing the stranger many times during his morning visits, and had always been intrigued by him, but was too shy to approach. Now, he wished he had.

“You were always in the cafe,” Jisung whispered, a statement more than a question.

Minho hummed with a smile, rubbing circles on the back of Jisung’s hand at the memories. “It was where I first saw you after I got assigned to protect you three years ago.”

Jisung stared down at the angel with sad eyes, heart breaking over and over as he watched Minho grow steadily weaker as they talked. The angel’s golden glow was fading, disappearing like the way the colors of a sunset get chased from the sky by the coming night. He took a shaky breath. “Take it back, please. I don’t want you to die for me; it wasn’t meant to be you, so please, just let me die like I was supposed to. I can’t live knowing that the only reason I’m alive is because you sacrificed yourself for me, I don’t want it. I’m not worth your life.”

“ _ No _ .” Minho’s voice was stern, his eyes hardening. “Don’t you dare feel like that, don’t you dare for a second believe you are unworthy. I knew the consequences of my actions, and I chose to do this willingly. I wanted to save you, and I would do it a million times over, die the most cruel and painful deaths, if it meant giving you a second chance at life. You are so precious, and worth so much more than you think. I wanted this, I wanted to save you.”

“But I’m not,” Jisung cried, squeezing Minho’s hand. “I don't understand, why me? I’m not all that great, I’m not special, I’m just a stupid guy who’s chasing an impossible dream and trying to keep himself alive. I don’t deserve any of this.”

“That’s not true,” Minho whispered. “Maybe in your eyes, you’re ordinary, but in mine, you’re anything but.” The angel reached up with a tired smile, tapping his index finger to the human’s temple.

Jisung gasped as images flashed in his mind, memories that weren’t his flying past. He saw himself, a younger him, seated at his table in the cafe, glasses sliding down his nose as he poured over his lyrics. He had to be about 17, and in the memory, which he realized was from Minho’s perspective, Minho sat down at the table across from him, watching Jisung with fascination, admiring the way the sun shined on his features in the early morning. And he saw himself the day he left his parents’ home, crying on the bus ride to Chan’s, and Minho was seated right beside him, sadness overtaking his heart and wishing he could do something to ease his Jisung’s pain. He also saw himself curled up in his bed, sniffling to himself after his ex had broken his heart, and Minho sat at his bedside, gently rubbing circles into the back of his hand, trying to comfort him but knowing he could only do so much. So many memories from the past years played out in his mind, and in each one, he felt Minho fall more and more in love, determination to protect him and guide him through what would’ve been his short life gripping the angel’s every action. In Minho’s memories, it was like Jisung lit up the room, his smile bringing the angel unbridled happiness, and his tears tearing him apart with heartbreak. Jisung could feel Minho’s emotions like a tidal wave, washing over him and surrounding him in a comforting warmth, telling the human that his love was unending, and more than deserved. To Minho, Jisung was his whole world.

After a few moments of reliving Minho’s memories, the angel saw Jisung’s consciousness return to the present, a new wave of tears slipping from his eyes.

“Don’t cry for me, sunshine,” Minho whispered. His breathing was shallow now, his angelic, golden glow almost completely gone, but Minho was determined to hang on just a little bit longer, just so he could enjoy Jisung’s presence a tad bit more. “Jisungie, my precious human, my bright shining sunshine, don’t be sad. I’ll be okay. I’ll be reincarnated, given a new life just like every other soul in this world. I’ll be safe, and happy. I’m not scared, and I’m not in pain, so don’t fret for me. I’m okay with this, and I know you’ll be okay, too.”

Jisung ran his free hand, the one that wasn’t holding Minho’s, through the angel’s purple hair, trying to fight the tears to no avail. He cursed whoever had given him this destiny, one that had resulted in his own angel sacrificing his life for him. Minho’s elegant wings lie sprawled on the pavement around him, soft feathers ruffling in the light breeze that had begun to sweep the streets, and just over the skyline, Jisung could see the faintest light of the coming dawn.

“Jisungie…” The faint voice brought Jisung’s attention back to the angel held in his lap, heart shattering at how weak he now looked.

“What is it, Min?” Jisung’s voice was hoarse, throat tight and pained as he tried to keep himself from breaking down even more.

“Promise me… you’ll be happy. Chase your dreams… Find someone… to love, and never… lose your beautiful… smile.”

Jisung nodded, the early morning light peeking over the horizon reflecting off the tear tracks on his cheeks. “I will. I will, Min, I promise.”

Minho smiled softly, shining eyes fluttering shut as he surrendered himself to his fate, content with knowing that his human would live happily after he’s gone. His consciousness slipped away, hand going limp in Jisung’s as his breathing ceased, heart thumping slowly to a stop. Jisung watched with wide, tear filled eyes as the angel’s body began to glow with a shimmering gold, dissolving into glittering dust and taking to the sky, like fireflies glowing in the night. It was the most beautiful sight Jisung had ever seen, and he sat in the street, brisk morning air chilling his body, as he watched the specs of gold light rise into the colorful morning sky, before disappearing from view. He sat there for many more long minutes, eyes watching the sky where Minho had disappeared, before he slowly stood, arms wrapped around himself as he stumbled his way home.

Jisung didn’t visit the cafe that morning.

* * *

Two years passed, the time ticking by like the hands of a clock, too fast for Jisung to really notice. His life had irreversibly changed that fateful morning, and it led him to view the world in an entirely new light.

Jisung never told anyone about what had happened that late night in the middle of autumn, about how he’d been hit by a drunk driver, how he’d laid broken and helpless in the street, terrified and alone, how an angel came to visit him and wait with him while he passed, and how that angel decided to save him, trading his life for Jisung’s. He knew he’d sound crazy to anyone he did tell, but the secret almost felt too intimate to share regardless, like it was a special thing to be shared between Minho and him, and only them. No one else could know.

But for a long time, the secret weighed on him like an anvil. To the outside world, nothing had changed, and Jisung was his bright and smiley self as always, but behind closed doors, in the darkness of his room, Jisung cried, tormented by the memories of the terror he’d experienced while nearly dying, and the guilt of being the reason Minho died. He’d promised to be happy, but the human found it near impossible with such a burden weighing on his heart. The knowledge that Minho used to sit by his bedside when Jisung had cried like this before only made the pain worse, and for the first time in years, Jisung felt well and truly alone. His keys no longer magically appeared on his table when they went missing, his jacket stopped appearing by the door on days it would rain, and worst of all, he no longer felt a warm comforting presence around him throughout the days, something he hadn’t even noticed was there before until it was suddenly gone. He’d barely known the angel, but it ached as though he’d lost his best friend.

Jisung stopped visiting the coffee shop, deciding that the memories of all the mornings Minho spent watching him there made the space too painful to visit, but as time progressed, Jisung began to heal. It was a slow process, but it happened nonetheless. He had to keep his promise to Minho, no matter how hard it was, and eventually, days came where Jisung no longer cried to himself in the isolation of his room. By the time a year had passed, Jisung was able to carry on through his days like he used to, bringing laughter and smiles wherever he went.

That didn’t mean Jisung ever forgot, though. No, Jisung held those memories close to his heart, cherishing what they gave him. He’d been given a second chance at life because of the beautiful angel that loved him, and he’d be damned if he ever took that for granted.

So Jisung poured his all into his newfound love for life, working twice as hard on music with his friends, so much so that they had actually started to gain a decent following on the internet thanks to their soundcloud. Jisung had graduated college with a degree in music production, and was now working at JYPE as a lyricist, while still following his goal of making 3racha his main career at some point in the future. It no longer pained his heart when his keys didn’t magically appear on the kitchen table - though it had become a testament to how truly brainless he could be at times - rather it made him thankful that he had had someone like Minho looking out for him back then. Jisung would always wish that he’d had the chance to love Minho like Minho had loved him, but he turned that desire into a promise that whoever he  _ did  _ love in the future, he’d love with as much passion and selflessness as Minho had loved him with. 

And every once in a while, Jisung would see the stars, reminding him of the glittering specks of light that Minho had become when he died, and the human would smile, hoping that wherever Minho was now, in his new life, that he was happy and safe, living the wonderful life he deserved.

It was the morning that marked the two year anniversary of the incident, and Jisung had woken up early as always, smiling to himself as he walked out into the kitchen and grabbing his wallet from the counter. He needed to grab his credit card in order to buy something online for 3racha’s next show, but as he pulled the rectangular plastic from its fold, another card tumbled out, falling onto the floor at Jisung’s feet. The human bent down, reaching for the card before pausing, staring at the little coupon with 10 little holes punched in it. It was his old punch card for the cafe down the street.

Jisung sighed, picking it up and flipping it over in his hands. It had been such a long time since he’d visited, and for good reason, but Jisung decided that perhaps it was finally time he returned. Besides, he missed their coffees.

So Jisung made his way down the street, hands tucked in his pockets to help fight the cold, before making his way into the little shop. Despite two years having passed, it was just like he remembered it, the smell of coffee and caramel filling the air, washing a sense of nostalgia over the young man. He ordered a simple mocha and chocolate muffin before making his way to the empty table that he always used to sit at, but as he began to walk across the cafe, he froze, eyes landing on a figure seated at a very familiar table, drinking tea and eating a scone as he read something on his phone.

It was Minho.

His hair was brown now, styled slightly different, and he didn’t have that familiar angelic glow around him, but Jisung would never be able to forget his big eyes or pouty lips. The human’s heart had jumped into his throat, because there was no way Minho could really be here, not his Minho. It had to be a coincidence, right? Someone who just looked like him.

But as Jisung stood frozen, entranced by the brunette across the shop, the boy smiled at his phone, and that’s when Jisung knew it was him, because that smile, that beautiful, precious smile, was the same exact one from his memories, the one that he’d longed to see so much more of. Some way, somehow, he was here, in Jisung’s favorite coffee shop, sitting at the same table he’d always watched Jisung from, as though nothing had changed.

Jisung regretted having never approached Minho in the cafe before, but he wouldn’t allow himself to make the same mistake again.

“Minho?”

The brunette looked up from his phone, caught off guard by the sound of his name, and eyes falling on a beautiful boy with mousy brown hair and round cheeks. Minho tilted his head in confusion. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

Jisung’s eyes widened, shaking his head as he realized his mistake. “N-no! Sorry, no, you don’t. I’m sorry, you just look a lot like an old friend of mine.” Jisung rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, cursing himself for having not at least thought about how he shouldn’t know Minho’s name when, technically, he had never met him.

Minho smiled in understanding. “Well, you seem to know my name, so it’s at least fair that I know yours.”

“Oh, uh, Jisung. Han Jisung,” he responded, a blush creeping up his neck.

“Well, Han Jisung, would you like to join me? I’m kind of new around here, so it’d be nice to make a new friend.” The smile was as kind as Jisung remembered, and though he knew it wasn’t the Minho that Jisung had met two years ago, he was certain that it was his soul, that somehow, he’d gotten lucky enough to meet his angel’s reincarnation.

To anyone watching, it was like a cliche romance; two strangers meeting by chance in a coffee shop, becoming friends, and eventually falling in love. But for Jisung, it was so much more. Meeting Minho in his favorite cafe, the one Minho had first seen him in, at the table Minho had always sat at, exactly two years after the morning he had lost him, it wasn’t chance, it was destiny, and Jisung silently thanked his and Minho’s guardian angels, who he  _ knew  _ had to have played a role in this, for bringing them together again. Jisung got his second chance, he got to fall in love with Minho just like Minho had fallen for him in his past life, and it was everything he could’ve dreamed of.

And perhaps one day, after many years had passed and the two lovers lie in each others’ arms, curled up in their bed as the morning sun rose, perhaps Jisung would tell Minho about the night he had been destined to die, about the guardian angel who had loved him and sacrificed his life for him, about the reason Jisung had known Minho’s name that morning in the coffee shop, and why his favorite nickname for the boy was ‘angel.’

And because Minho, too, had felt a strange pull towards the cafe, and always felt unusually comfortable around Jisung even when they’d first met; despite not remembering this supposed past life of his, perhaps, Minho would believe him.

Perhaps they had always been destined to be together, no matter what lives they lived.

_fin ~_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to follow me on twitter (@nyxxstay) so we can yell about skz together, and check out my other ao3 stories if you're interested!
> 
> xoNyxx


End file.
